Flavor Boulevard

September was an extremely busy month. In addition to the usual school work, teaching, a part-time job and my editor job at the Daily Cal, I took on editing a special issue on Food (how could I resist?) and I worked for Sinto Gourmet for two weekends (again, it’s food work, I just couldn’t resist). The first weekend, Hyunjoo Albrecht, Sinto’s owner, asked me to be at the Stonestown Farmers’ Market at 7:30 am on a Sunday.

I told myself that waking up early is good for me, and that after the Farmers’ Market finished I would have the rest of the day to study. That was all good in theory, until I couldn’t sleep the night before and ended up working all night, then begrudgingly got dressed to leave at sunrise. (My friend Nancy was so unbelievably kind to drive me all the way from Berkeley to Stonestown, otherwise, I would have had to take the bus at 5:30 am and made a few transfers)

After leaving me with the kimchi, Hyunjoo rushed to another Farmers’ Market to set up her stall. Other vendors slowly arrived and filled up their space, but not the stall to my left. The wind blew fiercely from Lake Merced in the west, which is also on my left side. Of course, I didn’t dress warm enough, had no scarf, and had to mentally fight off the cold by reading about sushi. I hated the first two hours at the Farmers Market.

By 9:30, the sky got clearer and I stepped into the sun to warm up. Then customers started coming by, I started giving out samples, the vendors of the stall to my left finally came and rushed to set out their vegetables. I came back to life.

At the end of the day (which was about 1 pm), the vendors began packing up. I dropped by the neighboring stalls to say hi and see what they were selling. The Saint Benoit Yogurt lady gave me a strawberry yogurt, the Phoenix Pastificio guy gave me a chocolate macaroon (not macaron), the honey guy let me taste 5 (or 6?) different honeys and gave me an orange blossom honey jar, and the vegetable vendors to my left gave me some tomatoes (the girl even washed one for me to eat right there – I hadn’t tasted such an aromatic tomato for years!). The other vendors also traded stuff with one another, kale for honey, marinated tofu for pastries, and so often they just give them for free.

Orange blossom honey, tomatoes and chocolate macaroon.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted from standing and talking and dragged my feet to the bus station without a care in the world, but I was happy. Not just because I got free food (that made me happy of course). Not just because the food was so divine (the yogurt was so creamy because it’s made with whole milk, the honeys actually tasted like the flowers that the bees used to make honey, and over all, these fresh, real foods have such pleasant floral smells to them that store products can never compare). I actually didn’t know why I felt so happy until two weeks later, when I worked at Eat Real Festival with Hyunjoo. I was happy at the end of each day at the festival too.

Sure, I had to wake up at the time I normally go to bed, walked half a mile each way (from the bus stop to Jack London Square, where the festival was held), stood for 8 hours each day and felt like my knees and heels were going to shatter. Neither Hyunjoo nor I had any time to eat or check out other stalls, no vendors did. On Saturday, we bought two pastries from the stall right in front of us and a few sad dimsum (that were tiny and tasted no difference from the frozen ones). On Sunday, we ate nothing. We were tired for sure, but like Oaktown Jerk’s Randall Hughes in the next stall said, I didn’t feel miserable. There’s something so real about working with products, holding them in your hand, handing them to your customers and watching their expression as they got surprised by its quality. It was motivating. The kimchi is not even my own product and I’m already this happy selling it, I can hardly imagine how happy Hyunjoo must feel, and how the other vendors feel about their own. I began to understand how my parents feel when they spend hours everyday tending the apple and plum trees and cucumber vines in the backyard (and others in the front yard too).

Sinto Gourmet booth at Eat Real Festival 2013. Image courtesy of Sinto Gourmet.

For someone who spends almost all of her time in front of the computer, the interaction with physical products and physical people was fresh air. There were some annoying customers and some crazy ones of course (literally crazy, as in something is off in their head), but it was all very real. The interaction among the vendors was even better. Everyone was kind and eager to share their knowledge, and I like how they buy from one another (for example, Hyunjoo buys apples from another vendor at Farmers’ Market to make apple juice in her white kimchi). There was hardly any competition. During those hours, my focus was on preparing samples fast enough while observing and talking to the customers; I didn’t have to think about what I should do for my future, how to write my resume, how to sound smart against everyone else in my field. During those hours, I could actually rest.

The day after, my calves felt as if they had shrunk and standing up to start walking was the most painful moment ever. But, I would gladly do it again. I’m sure I would hate myself when I try to get out of bed, but as soon as I leave the apartment, I would feel alive.

Hokkaido butter corn miso ramen with smoked king salmon, pork belly, soy-marinated egg, snap peas, chrysanthemum greens, and shiitake. ($16)

Okay so, The Ramen Shop is not a place I would go alone. I think eating there alone would be particularly wonderful because ramen is the type of food to be eaten alone, and although the lighting might be too low for reading, it’s hard to read while slurping noodles anyway. BUT, the wait is just too horrible. This place has been hyped up since its opening in January, and it stays hyped. No sensical lone diner should wait an hour for a bowl of ramen.

It’s good ramen, though. I didn’t expect too much, and I was satisfied.

The broth was rich, although not hot enough (maybe I remember more than I should from the movie Tampopo, but they say the ramen broth should be boiling hot when arriving at the table). By American standard though, this is fine. I like that they keep the menu simple: 3 kinds of ramen – shio ramen with manila clams, veggie shoyu ramen with mushroom and salt-cured egg (yeah, ramen ain’t no place for vegan 🙁 ), and miso ramen with salmon. The only complaint: why no simple ramen with just pork belly? I understand that you want to make the $15 price tag seems more reasonable by adding some extra stuff, but the salmon really doesn’t belong.

Black sesame ice cream sandwich ($6) – The ice cream part is okay, but I’m not a fan of the sugar cookie.

The Ramen Shop is at 5812 College Avenue, Oakland, CA 94618 – (510)788-6370.

Early August, I had a great meal at Homestead, one of the newest additions in Oakland’s restoscape. The meal was a media invite – one benefit of working at the Daily Californian – and the owners were incredibly generous at letting us order everything we wanted at no charge, which turned out to be, as it always goes when Kristen and I dine together, everything on the menu. But that’s not the best part of a food writing job. The best part was the interview. The chefs are always busy of course, but they were willing to set aside an hour the next Monday morning to chat. Afterwards, I gained 48 minutes and 31 seconds of recording, part of which I transcribed into 6 full pages of typed notes, a load of information about opening and running a restaurant, and so much positive emotion.

Earlier last week, I struggled to choose which pieces of information and which quotes should make it into my article to fit the word limit for print – there were just too many valuable details. Unlike news reporting, a feature must also follows a theme, and someone’s life is a lot more diverse than one box of introduction-body-conclusion tied together by a theme. Editing was a pain, and for the sake of journalistic professionalism, I won’t go into details, but despite the frustration, the feature, which came out on Friday, is one of my favorites, because it’s a product of the understanding between the chefs and me.

I find interviews a lot more enriching than the meals themselves. The person tells you a story and lets you catch a glimpse of their world, from their perspective, something that you can’t get from simply eating a meal. This is particularly true with Homestead. The welcoming and homey vibe that Fred Sassen and Liz Hopkins want to create in their restaurant isn’t just a business theme, they were genuinely open people that can make you feel at home.

“If you ever think back about the best meals you ever had, nine times out of ten, it’s not the food that’s the memory, it’s the reason you went to eat that’s the memory,” said Sassen. “We sat down with [Hopkins’] family and had sunday supper and it was the best sunday supper I ever had. The ham was burnt, and the peas was overcooked to mush, but it was okay because it was fun. It was that interaction with the family and that communal atmosphere.”

That’s one of the stories I like that didn’t make it into the final draft. To be honest, I didn’t expect to find Homestead very homey – the food they serve is not what I grew up with, and the price is higher than what I can afford everyday. But that conversation with Sassen and Hopkins became the reason that I want to go back, and the memory that makes the meal there memorable.

Maybe I’m just a sucker for “home”. Maybe it’s because both Sassen and Hopkins are young and passionate about what they’re doing (Hopkins is only 26, I didn’t get to ask Sassen’s age), and something about young people branching out on their own to build something for themselves is the inspiration I need these days. For whichever reason, I like this restaurant.

How was the food, though? This part I reserved for this personal blog and not talked about it in the Daily Cal review, because as a rule, we only review the food when we’re anonymous diners.

The small plates

Squid with bean stew, sausage and pesto ($11) – We both like the bean stew, and Kristen doesn’t like tentacles, so more tentacles for me. 😉

Summer squash salad with lemon, padrones and goat cheese ($10) – I detest goat cheese, but I could tolerate this goat cheese, so this salad was actually quite bright and lovely.

Housemade ricotta, peaches, housemade spicy coppa and grilled bread ($12) – Best ricotta I ever had.

Pan-fried gnocchi, corn, chanterelle mushroom and wild nettles ($12) – I think I’ll start pan-frying all of my gnocchi from now on.

The counterspace

While waiting for the food, we looked at the open kitchen attentively.

On the left is Sassen filleting a halibut. On the right is the multi-functional brick oven that he designed, taking inspirations from Camino’s, Waterbar’s and Boulevard’s brick ovens. The oven is fascinating but I’m afraid to get it wrong if I try to recite what Sassen described…

The main course

Slow-roasted pork with cream corn ($20) – We liked the cream corn, but the pork erred on the dry side.

Grilled ribeye, grilled frisee, carrots and bone marrow ($24) – The picture speaks for itself.

Salt-baked halibut, butter-roasted potato, pickled torpedo onion and hollandaise ($24) – Best halibut I ever had.

I’m no fish fanatic, but I’m still drooling for this halibut’s melting texture right now…

Desserts

“Plate of fresh fruit” ($5) – They tasted sweet and fresh, but we were expecting something more elaborate…

Plum upside-down corn cake with creme fraiche ($8) – I’m ashamed to say that I don’t remember anything about this corn cake…

Hot fudge brownie with vanilla semifreddo and cashew brittle ($8) – It was as rich as you would expect.

Teas ($3 each pot) – Lapsang Souchong (white pot) and Spring Jade (green pot). Although I appreciate the effort to include several kinds of tea (7 total) in the dessert drink menu, let’s just say that, unfortunately – in America in general and Homestead is no exception – restaurants’ knowledge of tea is still far below that of wine. A tea aficionado can only hope for the future.

Sometimes I’m amazed by Kristen’s and my own capability of consuming infinite dishes in one sitting. 😀 We unapologetically finished everything, too… Kristen said she was so ready for us to be kicked out of the restaurant. So was I.

Address: Homestead
4029 Piedmont Avenue
Oakland, CA 94611
(510) 420-6962

Mai has written quite favorably about Musashi in a past post but I have to write about a particular dish that has been about the best thing I’ve eaten in a restaurant lately.

That dish would be the chirashi sushi ($20) listed under the donburi menu items. This is by far the freshest, tastiest, and best-valued chirashi bowl that I have ever eaten. A win-win-win!

The bowl generously comes with at least 2 slices (some fish came with 3 or 4 slices) of tuna (two different types that were raw and one type that was slightly seared), salmon, mackerel, hamachi, raw scallops, octopus, shrimp (not pictured since the chef forgot to put it in the bowl but gave us the order on the side), a glorious piece of uni, squid-wrapped cucumber, tamago, and a dollop of salmon roe. All of this came on top of a huge mound of sushi rice, which was perfectly cooked. I would definitely recommend sharing, as this is way too big of a dish for one person to eat alone. Each piece of fish was so fresh that it was hard for me to pick one that I liked over the others. However, the true standout of the bowl for me would definitely be the uni. So rich, so creamy, and it just melts in your mouth with just the slightest hint of the ocean. This is the perfect example of how fresh uni should taste like and besides, how often is it that a chirashi bowl actually gives you a big fresh piece of uni?

For only $20, this is a dish that is well-worth the piece. I recommend getting one to share with someone else in order to make room for all of the other yummy dishes that Mai already covered in-depth. This is by far the best chirashi bowl I have ever had and the next time that I crave sashimi, I’ll head over to Musashi!

Berkeley is known for many things.

The protests, the hippies, the arts, homeless people, the diversity and the acceptance of that diversity (you can literally see every type of people and every type of activity in this city, and anyone who has actually lived here would stop seeing them as different types of people, just as people).

Berkeley also has the best public university in America, and actually the only public university that ranks above the Ivy league schools in many disciplines. (Public universities usually suffer in rankings not because of the students’ quality or the teaching quality, but because of the professor-to-student ratio, which is lower than those of private schools. Why? Ask the government about funding for public schools.) UC Berkeley was the reason I came to Berkeley, and for a while I hardly thought of the city as anything but the school. For a while, the academic life was my only life, and what I had planned for was a straight path into academia (and never out of it). But things change, and on some days, I feel lost. This is when I find that the city of Berkeley is more than the university it contains. That it has people who want to make change, who actually do it, who are willing to teach others how to do it, and some that are all three. Perhaps even more importantly, it hosts the environments where I can meet those people.

The dinner event that HUB Bay Area organized last week is one of those environments. Originally, I was hesitant to go, the official name of the event is “Innovate Berkeley: Sustainable Economic Development – East Bay Social Innovation Dinner”, and its list of participants include CEOs and founders of companies, architects, scientists, people who have not only ideas but the experience of doing something pertaining to the economy, and what do I put in the register box? “Student”. I was hesitant because I didn’t have anything to bring to the table. In the end, I went.

HUB dinner buffet – prepared by chef Hugh Groman and his catering staff. Baby lettuce salad with plum, goat cheese, pine nuts and sweet poppy seed vinaigrette; potato salad with celery, red onion, sweet pickle and egg; lentil salad with sundried tomatoes, radish, carrots and scallions; and lovely fried chicken (I’ve been craving fried chickens for some time, too…)

The evening began with some beer drinking and mingling. The ice breaker is a casual handshake and “what brings you here?”, followed by “why not, right? there’s free drinks!” with a chuckle. (I don’t drink, so I chuckled along with my glass of water.) Arriving on the earlier side would make it easier to get into groups, and you would get more time to talk to people, so you get to know more people before breaking up into tables for dinner. (Guess who arrived late?) The dinner is accompanied by a presentation. This time, it was an incredibly inspiring and engaging talk by Dr. Mike North about innovations, how they can be born and how they can be useful. After the talk, everyone moved around again, some grabbed desserts, most started or restarted discussions about ideas, careers, business, community developments. Serious topics. By the end of those conversations, business cards were exchanged.

Although I didn’t have anything to bring to the table, it was alright to be on the receiving end, at least this time. I learned from Barbara Hanna about computer vision, from Mike North and Jaki Levy about engineers and entrepreneurs that get together on the weekends to build communication systems for communities in Gambia, or foot brace for children in Nicaragua. Their projects connect professionals of different fields and materialize their ideas together. I listened in on a conversation among a landscape architect, a software architect and an environmental study post-grad, the topics ranged from business management to insurance policies on buildings. There were artists too, not just tech people and businessmen, and there were talks of practical art projects. The age difference was hardly any barrier: the accomplished people in their 60s were generous, and the start-up owners in their 20s and 30s were confident.

Those conversations, the people and the dinner as a whole represent Berkeley as a city, where every idea is welcome, and everyone is open to new ideas. But unlike the usual social events, these people weren’t playing nice. If you’re wrong, they tell you that you’re wrong, and they explain. Isn’t that how innovations come about, and how Berkeley is a hub for innovations?

Over the course of three hours, I felt completely intimidated, but also motivated. My line of work is one of the farthest way you can remove yourself from humanity, both spatially and chronologically. (I study light that came from outer space 30-40 million years ago. For comparison, homo sapiens appeared about 0.5 million years ago. The folks who study dinosaurs at least still stay on earth). You can imagine the impact I make in people’s lives today: it’s non-existent. The knowledge I have about solving human world problems? Also non-existent. How can I fix that? Where do I fit in this innovative crowd? I haven’t figured it out. So I’ll keep thrusting myself into this type of event until I figure it out.

—————————————————————————————————–
I’ve published a less personal version of this post on the Daily Cal, not as an abuse of my editorial power (although it may appear so 😉 ), but because I believe that there are other students who would like to know about this type of event.

Logistics: HUB Berkeley Innovation Dinner is a monthly event organized by HUB Bay Area. The dinner is hosted at HUB Berkeley, 2150 Allston Way, Berkeley, CA 94704. Early Bird tickets cost $31.74 each.

Friday. Nancy messaged Kristen and me that we should meet up early the next morning for breakfast at Jodie’s. We love breakfast. “How early, though?”, I asked.
– I could pick you all up… Mai at 7:45, Kristen at 7:50 ish…
– I have to say, this is insanely early, maybe I would just skip sleeping…
– Well, it is a TINY place next to a salon, I believe. It only seats eight at a time. The shop opens at 8 AM… There is the possibility of going later – 10 ish – but we would have to wait for “turnover” and wouldn’t be sitting with each other…
– …
– They have a table outside… it might be cold… They said they can’t predict if there will be only a few people or a lot… so we could always go a little later, but then we might have to wait for the table, but at least when that happens, we could still all sit together… Shall we try for 8:30 then? A bit of a compromise 😉
– 7:45 or 8:30 are the same to me, so let’s do 7:45. 🙂

Now, I’m an astronomer and a student, those two types of creatures don’t wake up early in the morning, they stay up into the morning. Which is exactly what I did. I stayed all until 7:50 when Nancy and her husband Ken picked me up. Then we swung by Kristen’s apartment. Kristen looked wonderfully bright and lively in pink pants (it might have been a salmon color, but after working the whole night, my color perception has reduced to that of a guy). During the drive, the conversation in the car was actually quite lively too, at one point we talked about male favoritism in ancient Chinese culture, but I won’t dwell on that now. The point is, boy was it the right idea to meet at 7:45, because by the time we arrived at Jodie’s (a bit before 8:30), 4 seats appeared filled. We took the remaining 4 seats.

I felt somewhat bad for the folks who came minutes after us. They were regulars. In fact, everyone there that day was a regular except the four of us. But someone left to wait for someone, 2 seats freed up, they filled in, the conversations started. Nancy and Ken, being long time residents in the Berkeley – Albany area, had no trouble connecting with everyone through stories of local high school principals and colleagues that somehow everyone (but Kristen and me) knew, while Kristen studied the walls of menus and photographs, and I snapped photos of those walls.

A huge mish mash of color papers, some faded, some laminated, covers the wall facing the customers. On each of those papers prints the description of a dish, its name, its number, and its price. I don’t know how long it would take to really read all of them, I lost track after a few panels and focused on taking pictures instead. There’s a normal menu on the counter behind the fruit preserve jars and sauces, too.

Jodie’s has a staff of two: Jodie, and a young guy who works the stove. The young guy hardly spoke. Jodie is a likeable man, he strikes me as a grandpa who would sit at the porch chewing out grandkids and neighborhood kids in a pretending-to-be-mean but loving voice, and no one would ever be afraid of him, he’s someone who makes you feel at home just by saying hello to you. He told us that the stuff in the counter menu are not on the wall, and the stuff on the wall are not on the counter menu. So I stopped reading both altogether.

Nancy knew what she wanted, and she also ordered for Ken after confirming with Ken that she knew what he wanted. So that went quickly. Kristen was up next. I know grits was involved (Kristen likes grits, and Jodie’s is famous for grits), but Kristen couldn’t decide between so many different delicious-sounding combinations, which she told Jodie, and Jodie chewed her out in his pretending-to-be-mean but loving voice. I heard some gigglings and “I don’t know”s, but I was running circles in my head trying to figure out what to get myself.

Then it was my turn. Like I said, I had already given up on reading the menus, so I just started listing what I wanted on my plate: hashbrown, pancake, sausage, scramble eggs. I wanted English muffins too, but Jodie stopped me before I said muffin, “then why don’t you get the Jodie’s Special? It has everything you said.” “Oh… okay.”

Either then or a little before, a lady stepped into the staff area behind the counter, so now Jodie’s has a staff of three. Jodie retreated out of view to prepare portions for each order. The lady took more orders (the line of customers was spewing out the door) and poured coffee. The young cook slapped bacon strips and hashbrown patties onto the sizzling platform. I don’t know how much time passed until we got our food, I alternated between gawking at the bacon and hashbrown browning and scanning the photos that covered the back wall. There were funny quotes, hundreds of pictures of Jodie’s regular customers, some sports photos. Old tattered photos make the place look more run down then it already is, but I can’t imagine decorating this place any other way, they embody too much memories and too many bonds among these people. Jodie’s wouldn’t be Jodie’s without the photos.

The lady told us to taste our food before adding anything to it. Nancy took a bite of her pancakes and grits, then reached for the salt and pepper (or some kind of condiment). Jodie flew out of his prep station into view, “Have you tasted it?” “Yes… !?” “Okay.” Jodie disappeared into the prep station again. [UPDATE: Nancy explained what actually happened: Nancy was going for the syrup bottle, but she had to move the salt and pepper out the way.]

I tried a nibble of Ken’s corned beef, more than I should have of Kristen’s “Jodie’s Special with a Y” (I’m sorry Kristen, it was too good and too close to me, and you were too nice), and I wiped clean my plate. Funny though, I’m not a fan of grits and Kristen’s not a fan of pancakes (which is why she ordered grits and I ordered pancakes), but we were both impressed by the other’s dish. The grits was anything but bland, it has an indescribable flavor that possibly comes from the grease on the griddle (or maybe just years of bacon smoke in the air?). The pancake was fluffy and buttery, it didn’t even need syrup. The bacon was thick and crunchy. The scramble eggs were creamy. For Kristen and me, Jodie’s has raised the bar for breakfast.

For Nancy, Jodie’s changed something else.
– I’ve been ribbed about having a coffee facebook theme…
– Why coffee?
– It kinda came from being at Jodie’s, although I never have coffee at diners… I’m always disappointed… But yeah, every one was having coffee in those diner type cups… made me nostalgic for my youth – going out for breakfast and having coffee. That’s back before any Starbuck’s and there was only one Peet’s in Berkeley. It was hard to get good coffee…

I think Jodie would be happy if he heard that. 🙂

At Jodie’s, one very early morning in July.

Jodie’s is located at 902 Masonic Avenue, Albany, CA 94706. (510) 526-1109. They’re open 8 am – 3 pm Wednesday through Friday and 8 am – 4 pm Saturday and Sunday. Visit Jodie’s website.

For a while I knew nothing about Japanese food, then within less than one year, I’ve found three places in Berkeley to satisfy my Japanese cravings. To get yakitori, guaranteed quality and to impress friends, I go to Ippuku. For a homey meal at affordable price and convenient distance, I swing by Musashi. For sushi and croquette, Sushi California tops the list.

Its name is generic and its location rather hidden, had Kristen not shared a Berkeleyside review on my Facebook wall some time ago, I would never have noticed Sushi California, much less tried (I tend to stay away from generic names because they often imply generic food). Then Kristen totally forgot about the place. One day I asked her “wanna try Sushi California?”
– What’s that?
– The place you posted on my wall…
– …

The biggest reason that I remembered Sushi California before going there was this line in Anna Mindess’ review: “Chef Arakaki admits that he used to offer other Okinawan classics like goya champura (sautéed bitter melon) but they did not sell well.” I love bitter melon, and even more than that, I love ethnic restaurants that try to offer regional specialties, which often go unnoticed by foreign customers and are eventually taken off the menu. (This is why it’s so hard to find decent traditional food in America, regardless of what cuisine you’re looking for.) So, in some way, I liked Sushi California even before I went. I didn’t hope to see bitter melon there now, but what was there was more than enough to keep me coming back.

Black seaweed salad ($4.45) – mozuku seaweed, cucumber, raw okra and lemon – Slimy okra isn’t my thing but this salad was so cold, so refreshing. Perfect summer food.

49’er roll ($9.95) – salmon and stuff. EXTREMELY refreshing. The lemon brightened up everything, the chewy salmon on top complemented the shrimp tempura inside. I was too busy inhaling it to notice any room for improvement, but I doubt there was any.

Karaage ($6.95) – a bit too oily and soggy

Hot sake and edamame

Hamachi nigiri – What I liked: no wasabi on the rice, the fish is buttery. What I slightly disliked: the fish is not chewy enough.

Okinawan soba ($9.95) – I was actually expecting the cold soba, but this version with pork belly, egg and kamaboko is nothing to complain about. As hearty as it looks.

Shishamo ($3.95) – grilled smelt, on the wet side, a few minutes longer on the grill would have been nice.

Kanpachi nigiri ($4.50) – Wonderful texture, but overall the taste pales in comparison to the aji. The aji was just too good.

Kurobuta sausage ($3.95) – black pig sausage

Manhattan roll ($8.95) – red tuna outside, tempura asparagus and mango inside – Tuna and mango don’t play well with each other though…

Wasabi tako ($4.25) – purely for the texture.

Aji nigiri ($4.95) – a seasonal special. This was the first time in months that I became vocal after taking a bite. I couldn’t contain myself, and immediately told chef Arakaki how good it was.

Anago nigiri ($4.95) – Salt-water eel. Another seasonal special. Again, I became vocal. Its deliciousness will linger in my head for another 20 years.

Purple sweet potato korokke ($3.95) – Slightly sweet, moist inside and crunchy outside, not milky, not too dry.

Finally, the PERFECT korokke. The size, the crunchiness, the moistness, the taste are all perfect. My love for these rivals Kristen’s love for Gregoire’s potato puffs, and that girl would sell you for Gregoire’s potato puffs if she could. 😉

Red bean and green tea ice cream ($3) – the standard fare.

On Friday, the homey atmosphere is warmed up with live music: first a guitar, then a cello accompaniment later into the night. I like to sit at the bar to watch the chefs slicing and shaping their sushi, and to see which dishes get ordered. The chefs were so focused that I dared not interrupt, and I was happily immersed in such atmosphere anyway. Sushi California was first opened in 1986. Chef Arakaki told Mindess that originally he intended to expand it into a chain of restaurants, but it didn’t happen. I’m glad it didn’t happen. Chains can never feel the same, and Berkeley would have lost its most memorable sushi joint.

Address: Sushi California
2033 Martin Luther King Jr. Way
Berkeley, CA 94704
(510) 548-0703

The restaurant is big, clean and convenient. It’s in Westfield San Francisco, a big chunk of the fourth floor of the shopping mall is restaurants, and M.Y. China is one of them. Sitting 50 feet from the kitchen and you can smell the intoxicating fumes of dumplings. We order two Chinese classics: xiao long bao (pork & crab juicy dumplings) and niu ro mien (beef hand-pulled egg noodle soup).

The niu ro mien is good. Fourteen dollars. Melting tender beef, chewy noodle (not as chewy as I would like, but I’m not a fan of egg noodle anyway), dark, flavor-packed broth (which gets a bit too salty after a while and sends you drinking water like mad).

The xiao long bao‘s are dry. Twelve dollars for five. There’s not enough broth in them. The dumpling skin is dried up on top, the carrot slice at the bottom, which supposedly helps preventing the dumpling from sticking to the spoon, disrupts the harmony in texture. The pork filling? This is where my friend and I disagree.

The filling has ginger. My friend insists that: 1. xiao long bao should have a lot of ginger (to mask the flavor of the pork); 2. she has eaten a lot of xiao long bao over the years to know that it should have a lot of ginger; 3. she doesn’t notice the ginger in these xiao long bao, in fact, she added extra ginger to the dumplings to make them taste gingery.

I insist that: 1. these xiao long bao are too gingery (the pork and the crab are completely masked); 2. even with the pre-equipped knowledge that xiao long bao are supposed to have a lot of ginger, I don’t like these xiao long bao because they have too much ginger.

Ice cream ($4 each) – toasted rice (left) and chinese walnut (right) – both remind me of grocery rice milk and walnut milk, which are sweeter than I would have liked.

Of course, the natural question comes up: should you review food based on your knowledge of the food (how it should be) or based on your taste of the food (how it is)? Food reviews have both objective facts and subjective preferences, and as a reviewer, I don’t mix those two categories together. If I know with all certainty how it should be, I’ll include that statement in my review, otherwise, all of my reviews are about how it is (with respect to my taste buds). Is that too subjective? Sure. Are my preferences peculiar? Maybe. I don’t drink coffee and alcoholic beverages, and I don’t eat spicy foods. In general, I don’t like anything too strong. If a dish has one overwhelming flavor that masks everything else, I call it “one-dimensional”. I want to taste different flavor profiles in a dish, especially the natural flavors of the ingredients, which is why I’ve grown increasingly fond of raw seafood sushi and increasingly intolerating of cakes. So if you like strong flavors, the things that I like would be almost water to you, and the things that I say are too this or too that would taste just fine. 🙂

But surely, there must be others who share my preferences?

Logistics: M.Y. China is a new restaurant by Martin Yan and the owners of Koi Palace. It opened early this year, and it locates on the 4th floor of Westfield San Francisco Center, 845 Market St, San Francisco, CA 94103 – (415) 580-3001

Good ol’ tomato and crab noodle soup from Southern Vietnam: bún riêu (pronounced |boon rhee-oo|). The broth looks alarmingly spicy but this soup is actually never spicy. The orange red color comes from tomato and annatto seeds, and if you’re lucky, crab roe (if fresh crabs are used for the soup).

The sweetness of the broth comes from freshwater paddy crabs, where the whole crab (meat and shell) is ground to a paste and strained for the juice. It’s a delicate, distinctive sweetness that can’t be reproduced with dashi no moto, meat bones or mushroom. To deepen the flavor, the cook adds some mắm ruốc, fermented krill paste, to the broth.

Traditionally, bun rieu has crab meat and tofu for the protein part, but bun rieu at Ba Le Sandwich is ladened with cha lua, pork and shrimp.

Traditionally, it’s one of those commoner’s noodle soups that every other street stall sells in Vietnam, nutritious, filling, unrefined, a richness of everyday life and earthy pleasures. Somehow I grew up not thinking much of it and was never impressed by it. In the bustle of North Cali, bun rieu is still nothing more than a commoner’s noodle soup, never elevated to the level of party food, but the more I think about it, the more I find it romantic. In one bowl, I was tasting the unctuous harmony of wetland and freshwater, of simple vegetables and grains and crustaceans that grow up together in one environment and end up together in one pot, or at least that’s how the noodle soup was originally designed. Do things taste best in the company of what they grow up with? I’m inclined to think so.

Back to a matter-of-fact viewpoint, the inside of Ba Le Sandwich in East Oakland, has been renovated earlier this year into a neat little diner enough to sit 12-14 people, since most customers come for to-go banh mi and on-the-counter goodies such as mungbean milk and sesame beignet. They have hand down the best banh mi in the East Bay north, but everything else tastes good because they know how to season things.

Address: Banh Mi Ba Le (Ba Le Sandwich)
1909 International Blvd
Oakland, CA 94606
(510) 261-9800

One bowl of delta romanticism: $6.50. Another awesome thing about this place: they open at 6:30 am.

Banh cuon – steamed rice rolls stuffed with pork and mushroom (the white things), and accessories.

Banh canh – It’s supposed to be tapioca noodle soup with short fat noodle made from tapioca and rice flour, but Ba Le uses Japanese udon instead. The broth is kept original, though.

Let me first get this off my chest: I hate restaurants with low lighting (e.g., Burma Superstar and Bistro Liaison), red lights (e.g., Thanh Long and Mission Chinese), and yellow lights (Gather). Why can’t we have nice white neon lights? I don’t go there to film romantic dinner scenes or deal drugs under the table. I go there to eat food, I want to be able to see the true colors of what I’m eating, and I want to take good pictures of them. Is that really too much to ask?

Okay. On to the next business. A lot of people ask me what my favorite restaurant in Berkeley is. I can’t answer that. It’s like asking me who’s my favorite friend. But if you ask me where I would take someone out to dinner, I have a few cards to deal depending on what that person likes. If they like grilled meat and interesting food, I recommend Ippuku. If they’re vegetarian, I take them to Gather.

That said, unlike the consistently good Ippuku, Gather gives me ups and downs. My first experience with Gather in March 2010 was lovely (minus the terrible lighting). Subsequent visits were unmemorable, except for an oversized French toast that was way too sweet to finish even half. Just as I started to think meh another one bites the dust, Gather wows me with a few incredible dishes to prompt a write-up. That, and I think I should at least try to have some colored pictures of its food to complement my black-and-white review last time.

Vegan charcuterie ($18)
From left to right: Beet with citrus, almond and olive; Carrots with smoked cashew, dates, hay and wheat berries (the fresh hay gives the green color); Endive on mushroom puree with spring onion, ash and radish nukazuke; Fennel with kumquat, green garlic puree and seaweed.

The seaweed that was paired with the fennel was of the Sargassum type, where a bite into the champagne-grape-like bubbles releases a burst of seashore flavor that did not belong. The purees are balanced and exceptional, with a floral hint of high-quality olive oil.

That reminds me, at Gather, bread and olive oil is available only upon request; of course, we requested, not just once but twice. The first time, our waiter brought us 4 slices, we finished it in a jiffy, the second time, he brought 8 slices. 😀 He was also incredibly patient when I asked “what gives the green color?”, “which one is the nukazuke?” and a dozen other questions. You know, the typical annoying foodie behavior.

Sea lettuce smoked kampachi ($15) – with squid ink, Meyer lemon, green almond and sake lees.
Texture-, taste-, scent-wise, a Perfect Dish.

This dish has everything I like: kampachi, squid ink, seaweed, citrus. The sea lettuce is mild and crunchy, the fish chewy, the squid ink, olive oil and lemon juice engage the plant kingdom and the animal kingdom in a harmonious dance in circle.

Lingcod in oyster veloute, with Yukon potato and seaweed.

The design is a rocky shore with seaweed, fish and foam, I get that. But just because the plate depicts the sea, it doesn’t mean it should taste like the sea. The potato is too salty. The seaweed, once again, needs more prep work to tone down the seaside taste. But the lingcod filet was perfectly pan-fried, crispy on the outside and moist inside.

Chocolate semifreddo ($9) – with orange brodo (orange sauce), caramel, peanut and cardamom.
Another perfect dish.

Of course, we wouldn’t go without desserts, and the desserts at Gather show a great deal of restraint: not too sweet, not too chocolatey to overwhelm the cardamom scent, not too tart either. I like that kind of balance. That night, my friend and I were most drawn by the sea lettuce smoked kampachi and the lingcod precisely because of their balance. Although Gather’s execution of seaweed left much to be desired, the “vegan charcuterie” also remained a reliable inspiration.

Address: Gather
2200 Oxford Street
Berkeley CA 94704
(510) 809-0400
www.gatherrestaurant.com